


some kind of home

by queen_harley_quinns



Category: The Killing
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot Collection, Romance, maybe smut later who knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_harley_quinns/pseuds/queen_harley_quinns
Summary: She's his ride, and he's her home. A series of one-shot collections to depict them throughout the series and post-season 4 in the relationship the show never lived to see.





	some kind of home

**Author's Note:**

> Post season 4, set some time after Linden returns and has been staying with them long enough for a romantic relationship to develop, but she's still on uneasy terms of it with herself.

Some time after they begin to live together- which isn't long at all, considering when she returned to Seattle, she no longer had a home and crashed on his couch the first few weeks of their dating- he returned to detective work. Only for one case, he said. After multiple returns to the force, she understood his need to return to his roots, what he was trained for. She respected his wishes and let him go on his way with it; if anything, she trusted him more than herself not to lose his mind in the case. Besides, she was working the ferry again, and even then, she was mostly at home in his cozy apartment. She was confident in her ability to keep two feet on the ground and pull him back up if his head went underwater. She didn't worry too much of it, though- she never worries about him. Holder is nothing if not resilient, incredibly so, capable of bouncing back from almost anything. Like a rockstar, or maybe even Superman.

Six stitches lining his wrist just shy of his pulse point and a few stitches to a gunshot wound in the shoulder had her thinking perhaps she was wrong. She'd been trying off and on to quit smoking again, and now here she sat, furiously chewing the nicotine gum before clenching it in her teeth while she focused on her objective. Disinfecting, restitching, bandaging his wounds again, practically moments after he had walked through the door from the hospital with her. Analyzing, overthinking, worrying, _obsessing_ over it until it is just perfect and to her liking, swearing and cursing the nurses under her breath for sloppy care. It's not true; the stitches were just fine and clean as they were, but it made her feel better to care for them in her own hands, somehow calmed her down. Stephen tolerated the treatment in utter silence, unusual for him, but he looked tremendously exhausted. He gave her the slightest of sullen expressions as she worked but said nothing and made no protest against her.

As soon as she lets him, though, he slides off the bathroom counter and to his feet, swaying unsteadily. He's so thin she's still not entirely sure a gust of wind wouldn't blow him away. Right now, his already pale skin is looking ghostly, drained from blood loss.

"Do you need anything?" She was at his heels immediately, following him as he began to walk through the doorway exiting the bathroom. Her small hand fell on his arm, curling her fingers against the pale, warm skin, and it was enough to bring him to reality and he stopped in his tracks, slowly shaking his head.

"Sleep," was all he rasped in response, his voice a little cracked and shaky from the brutality of the day's events.

She was more than happy to comply after she had served him a hearty, hot meal for dinner and gotten him out of his clothes into something comfortable to sleep in. The next thing she knew, he was burrowed under the blankets of the bed, out like a light. She fussed over him at first while he slept, checking his bandages once again, making sure he had fresh clothes to wear, something comfortable to lounge in while he healed, cleaned up their little apartment for him. Finally, once the clock read 10 PM, she readied to sleep herself.

It's the first night she remained to sleep in the same bed beside him. Typically, if they made love, she would return to her comfy place on his couch, reluctant still to quite open him up to that vulnerable closeness.

It had opened her eyes, really. Half the time she had spent with him on the force, she had been in love but too stupid to realize it. Too stupid to realize what was really there, someone who knew her better than anyone else, living, breathing, heart beating. Waiting for her to love him too. Stephen had already made it well beyond clear to her it had been love at first sight for him. She had spent all this time still trying to keep him at arm's length and she could have lost him.

No, not anymore. He had at least proved he wouldn't let her push him away like everyone else in her life, and he was loyal enough to stay without question. The one person that had never left her was right in front of her.

Her fingers caressed along his stubbled jaw, his eyes closed, deep in sleep. The shadows under his eyes had only darkened after a few weeks back on the detective job. Maybe the injury would be enough for her to convince him to get off the case and go back to working his usual occupation as a youth pastor for Narcotics Anonymous. Returning back to earth when he gave a heavy exhale of breath, she lowered her hand, allowing his arms to reflexively tighten around her and draw her closer to him. Relishing in it, she found she didn't mind the closeness at all. Stephen was warm and surprisingly comfy to snuggle into for all his muscle mass and the strong arms around her promoted a feeling of safety and security she didn't exactly recall ever feeling in her entire life with anyone else.

She didn't want that to end. They were home, with each other. There was no need for them to put their life, and their sanity, on the line to be detectives anymore. She knew deep down, he would be the person she would really start a new life with.

With Jack and Kalia. 

Maybe she would even bear him children of their own. For now, this was enough.

Nestling into his warmth, she breathed out a sigh, whispering, "I love you, Stephen..."


End file.
